ORBITAL
I've got a few friends left on shore, yeah, sure,
they congregate. I hear them talk as I sail away,
always getting farther from their breath. God, it's
lonesome back there. Everything I said, I wasn't
supposed to say; everything they said was OK.
I never did get the hang of that. It's said that this
land is a free land - you can say and do whatever
you want. I'll mention that to the hangman next time
we meet. He's always busy doing his wife, learning to
read, talking at speed, cutting down trees. He has the
Mexican tongue - short and quick and happy. Ruining
another man's land, pouring out of Pocono cars at
five a.m. to get a plastering job for the day. Every
morning I see such things - land grab, run away
free, without a hitch, them, and me?
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